Darth Vader: The Jedi Purge
by Kavek
Summary: Darth Vader enters the Jedi Temple at the beginning of the Jedi Purge and blindly plies the work of slaughter as he struggles in his mind to make a decision that will decide the fate of the galaxy. Chapter 14 has arrived. Starving for some reviews, guys.
1. Gate Master Jurokk

**Yeah, yeah, I know. George Lucas is wonderful, George Lucas invented Star Wars, yada yada yada.**

Anyway, this story is indeed AU in a few ways. I'll leave you to figure that out. As I said previously, reviews are much appreciated. And, to make you 'an offer you can't refuse', per se, here's a bargain for us: you review this little fluttering piece of scrap, and I'll review your stories. Yes, in the plural. Fair? Good. It's settled, then.

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The Jedi Purge

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_"Join me. Pledge yourself to the Sith." _

_"I… I can't." "Of course you can." _

_Anakin shook his head and found that the rest of him threatened to shake as well. "I… came to save your life, sir. Not to betray my friends –" _

_Sidious snorted. "What friends?"_

_ Anakin could find no answer._

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**_Démmarent: Gate Master Jurokk_**

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_Clump. Clump. Clump._

Darth Vader barely heard the punctuating clatter of clone boots echoing across the front stair leading to the door of the Jedi Temple. His mind was too clouded, swirling in a red mist of dark side energy that blinded him, turning his gaze inward as he did battle internally. Darth Vader may have won a battle, but Anakin Skywalker was not dead yet.

Making a short motion to the clones behind, a signal that said _stay back_, Vader stepped up to the pale halo of light that illuminated the little place before the huge double doors that led into the Temple. The battle inside him raged so loudly that it seemed to him that the tortured sound rang from the obelisks on either side of him.

Vader had a stranglehold on Skywalker for now, that much was certain. But Anakin, the lingering part of his mind, struggled on. Unfortunately for the Jedi Knight, he was losing to himself.

The Sith Lord easily caught the erstwhile Jedi by the throat and smashed him against the floor of his spirit. When Anakin tried to rise, Vader merely planted a boot in his face, and for now, the Knight was down.

_I am Darth Vader._

Just then, the double doors creaked inward and Gate Master Jurokk slipped through. "Anakin!" he gasped. "Anakin, what happened? Where are the Masters?"

_He means Windu, Fisto, and the rest…_

Vader didn't answer. He was distracted, thinking of those hellish moments, the blue blade, the charred flesh, and the aural glare of Sith lightning…

Vader quickly gathered his senses. "Where is Shaak Ti?" he asked.

Jurokk frowned. "In the meditation chambers – we felt something happen in the Force, something awful. She's searching the Force in deep meditation, trying to get some feel for what's going on…"

Vader wasn't listening. Jurokk finally picked up on that. "Something has happened, hasn't it?"

Vader didn't answer – and just then, Jurokk caught sight of the clones standing on the stairs, waiting. Thousands of them. Jurokk swore inwardly. "Anakin…" he murmured, his voice slowly beginning to grow with fear and intensity. "What's going on? Something's happened. Something horrible. How bad is it…?"

Vader finally came back to himself, sloughing off the words of the Gate Master as his saber suddenly flashed from his belt and the beam emitter pressed angrily against the bottom of Jurokk's chin. Before the Gate Master could react, Vader's thumb pressed the button, and blue fire chewed right through the soft flesh under his jaw. Vader passed the dying Gate Master a mournful look. "You have no idea."


	2. Cin Drallig, Bene, Malreaux

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Deux: Cin Drallig, Whie Malreaux, Bene

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Vader moved with silent stealth across the dark floor, contemptuous, simmering snger feeding his heart. He ignored the statues that glimmered with silent intensity, staring contemptuously at the Sith that would dare soil the confines of the Temple. But Vader was still distracted by himself. His thoughts were betraying him.

_What about Obi-Wan? _Anakin thought. _You always held loyalty in the highest regard, now you've turned against him. What kind of friend are you?_

_He betrayed you, not the other way around, _Vader replied, trying to un-ruffle his thoughts. _He ordered to you to spy on Palpatine._

_But he was right, wasn't he? Palpatine turned out to be the Sith Lord._

_And Palpatine also turned out to be the one who can save Padme._

_Padme._

And that was the end of the argument. For now.

Clones were quietly fanning out through the temple according to his orders; best to do this as quietly as possible for as long as the secrecy could be maintained. Vader wasn't entirely sure that if all the Jedi were alerted that his force could stand up to a full-fledged Jedi assault.

The doors to a sparring chamber loomed on his right. Within were the sounds of lightsabers hissing, shouts of instruction, and – as Vader stretched his perceptions into the room with the Force – a complete lack of attention for what was going on outside. Within the confines of his hood, he contemplated that, and it struck him that the Jedi had spent the last seventy years like this. Attending to 'Jedi business', ignoring the obvious signs around them of the rise of Darth Sidious.

_And why should they? _Vader thought. _The Temple is a safe place. The Sith were supposedly extinguished. Ha._

Without a second's hesitation, Vader slipped silently into the room and stood, waiting. Within were Cin Drallig, Whie Malreaux, and Bene.

Bene and Whie were sparring in the midst of the room, two children in Vader's eyes, playing with toys the deadliness of which they knew little, if anything. Old Drallig stood to one side, giving either apprentice instructions as they clumsily parried and thrusted. Drallig glanced over and noticed Skywalker, gave him a nod of recognition and paid no more attention.

Vader smiled, amused by the Troll's reaction, his sheer lack of cognizance. He stood still for a moment, analyzing the techniques of the two duelists, letting himself indulge in this curious eccentricity. _Bene is using a combination of Soresu and Shii-Cho. But she needs to tighten her stances. Whie is good. His simple Juyo is going to catch her off-guard in a minute…_

Suddenly, Vader was aware of Drallig's eyes on him, a sudden awareness rippling through the Force… Vader grinned. This was his moment. Let it come. And he extended his thoughts, reached the old bladesbeing's mind, and hissed,

_I am Darth Vader, Drallig._

And Cin knew. His double-bladed saber lurched into his hand, green beams flaring into bright existence as he threw himself toward the Padawans, fear in his voice: "Look out!" _Fear. _Vader fed on it. Anakin shrank from it. The Knight knew all too well where fear led.

Whie whirled, his blade coming up. Vader was there, dropping into Djem-So without any visible effort, and for a moment, Anakin Skywalker was totally forgotten as the Dark Lord of the Sith fed off of another life. Gracefully whirling, his blade sizzled through flesh as his blade cut off both of Whie's hands – the envied double _cho mai. _The boy screamed in agony, gaze fixed on the charred stumps of his hands, for a single instant regretted that he'd ever become a Jedi – just as Vader's blade clove him in two from head to crotch. _Sai tok. _

It was a game to Vader, scoring points with marks of contact. Ducking a frenzied and completely tactless swing from Drallig, his blade hissed again, catching Bene's leg, exposed by a poor Shii-Cho stance – cho mak -- and the Padawan was on the ground, tears filling her eyes, begging the Force for the answer: why would Anakin Skywalker murder Jedi?

Drallig was no idealist. He had firm ideas about the nature of right and wrong in the universe. But this was one thing thatcompletely blindsided him – _Anakin Skywalker a Sith? _

He never answered his own question. Vader's blade suddenly twirled in a graceful arc, slashing across the handle of Drallig's saber – _sun djem --_ then digging deep into the weapon master's shoulder. _Shiak. _

Bene writhed on the ground, trying to reach one of the many fallen sabers, tears flowing freely now, bestowing what she was sure were her last thoughts upon her friends, her Master… As the remorseless eyes of Darth Vader turned on her, she felt the Force twist in a horrible new way, as the tendrils she had once known as being warm and full of light, suddenly darkened and gripped her throat, tightening, tightening, tightening…

_All too easy, _Vader thought.


	3. Ti, 'Scout', Keto, Metris, Nu

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Trois: Shaak Ti, 'Scout' Tallisibeth, Serra Keto, Petirus Metris, Jocasta Nu

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"He's coming," Metris whispered, eyes closed, feeling with the Force for the dark nexus of energy that was swirling through the Temple. "What will we do?" Tallisibeth asked, voice quavering. 

Shaak Ti cut her off. "There is no emotion; there is peace," she admonished. Scout sighed and cleared her mind with an effort. "Yes, Master," she mumbled.

Serra Keto scowled and fingered one of her two hilts, eyes flashing dangerously. "Why don't we go and meet him, before he kills more of us?" she snapped. Jocasta Nu nodded. "I won't have a Sith walking in my Archives," the old woman said, giving Keto an agreeing nod.

Metris frowned. "Your thoughts tread dangerously close to hatred, Serra. To defeat the darkness, we must become a brighter light."

"But the brightest light casts the darkest shadow," Nu countered, and suddenly, she was on her feet, saber at her side, stepping toward the door to the Archives, where Darth Vader waited within…

Serra Keto tried to follow, but Metris' desperate hand held her back. Shaak Ti leaped to her feet, "Jocasta, wait!"

Jocasta Nu passed into the Archives, and Shaak Ti was left standing there, knowing what fate awaited the ancient keeper of the Archives.

Jocasta stepped bravely forward, trying to hide the trembling of her fingers. The hostess in her came out and she moved toward the Sith Lord who stood brooding in the midst of the floor. "Good evening, Knight Skywalker. What can I do for you?"

The eyes of Darth Vader peered up from the depths of his hood. Not adjusting his hunched posture – _Like a vulture, _Jocasta thought – he answered, "Give me access to the Masters' archives. Now."

Jocasta visibly flinched. "You are not a Master, Knight Skywalker. I will not give you that access," she said proudly, and her saber was suddenly in her hand, blade bright and blazing, as she tried to remember her combat days, dropping into a rusty form of Niman.

Darth Vader rolled his eyes and made a contemptuous gesture. Jocasta Nu suddenly felt the Force moving in a horrible way, wrapping itself around her body, gripping her firmly as she suddenly rose into the air, then jerked toward Vader as the Sith Lord's fist – filled with his lightsaber hilt – came to meet her, the blue blade pulsing to lifein her gut.

"I am Darth Vader."

"_No!_" screamed a child's voice. Vader's head snapped toward the source, and there, standing in the door, was Serra Keto, both blades in her hands, flaring and spitting with the rage the girl felt.

Vader grinned again, a twisted version of Anakin Skywalker's trademark smile. "Padawan Keto," he mocked. "Welcome. I presume you've come to join me?"

Keto cursed and lunged toward Vader, and suddenly, 'Scout' Tallisibeth was with her, tears streaming down the Padawan's face. Vader dropped into a flashy Shien stance, holding his saber in an underhanded grip that kept his lightsaber hilt close by his chin.

Anakin suddenly rose in the confines of Vader's mind, and demanded, _Can you really kill these children? You are conflicted._

Vader growled. _There is no conflict. I am Darth Vader, and I am doing this to save Padme. _

The Padawans attacked, and Vader moved to defend, ducking low, spinning across the floor, foot sweeping out to trip Keto, who was knocked bowling into a shelf. Scout backed away, horrified as Vader lunged like a cat, pouncing on Keto and severing her head with a single stroke. Scout half-turned, and then realized that Shaak Ti and Petirus Metris were in the doorway, running as fast as they could to save the two students. She paused, hesitated, turned back – as Vader's blade claimed her right arm and his knee smashed into her stomach. A quick twist of the Force, and her neck was broken. She fell heavily, unfeeling, staring into Vader's dark eyes, asking him, "Why?"

And then Scout was gone.

Vader turned, strangely unhinged by that single choked gasp from the child: _"Why?" _There had been no fear, just confusion, hurt, betrayal…

_Betrayal…_

Involuntarily shuddering, Vader turned to meet the deadly oncoming charge of the two Jedi Masters. _They denied me the rank of Master for so long, _he thought, a new anger, a new wrong done to him rising in his mind. _Now let them see the folly of their ways. _

Shaak Ti reached him first, and right behind her was Metris. Their blades hissed blue in against the dull gray of the floor and pillars around them. Vader was in Shien now, throwing whipcrack-like kicks and making death-defying moves that left Metris, at least, stunned and terrified.

Shaak rolled low beneath an overhand sweep. Sliding across the marble, she came to her feet just in time to witness the horrifying scene of Darth Vader suddenly catching Metris by the sword-hand and driving his blade right into the Jedi Master's open mouth. Metris made a single choked scream, and fell.

Vader turned toward her. "Mmm. Perhaps he needed more practice?" he asked, cocking his head to one side.

Shaak knew what he meant. The Jedi council had defied what Anakin saw as common sense, passing him over for the Mastery. But that wasn't the answer to this… this rampage. "What happened to you, Anakin?" she asked softly as she began to circle the Sith Lord.

Vader didn't move, didn't speak. His eyes simply followed the woman as she moved around, looking for an opening. Suddenly, she lunged, felt an unexplainable thrill as she lashed her blade toward him. His saber came up to block and he slipped to one side – suddenly, his blade was gone and Shaak Ti's weapon was making an exaggerated follow-through as Anakin pressed his saber hand against her chest, thumb triggering the blade. The female Jedi Master let out a long, horrified shriek of agony as fire cauterized her lungs, flash-burning her heart.

Within Vader's mind, Anakin was screaming as well. _Pain. _Vader fed on it.

Vader savored the momentThe Dark Side filled him with a tingling rush of heat, and he was standing again on that distant mountaintop, passionate, yet somehow dispassionate, and he again solidified his identity, assuring himself in his newfound power.

_I am Darth Vader._


	4. The Younglings

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Quatre: The Younglings

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Skywalker had been abnormally quiet for the last few minutes. Perhaps he was in shock from what Vader had done. At any rate, he was somewhere in a distant corner now, huddling in shock at the way his hands moved, the way his mind manipulated the Force. The young Knight had almost always been in surrender to the Force, letting it guide his hands. He had never actively controlled it except for on rare occasions, and it frightened him. _What am I doing?_

Vader came back with a snarl: _Saving Padme._

Eagerly watching the chrono, he waited as the turbolift hissed to a sudden stop at the highest level of the Temple, just outside the council chambers. Stepping through the doors, cloak streaming out behind him, he stepped into the dark chamber, squinting in the lights of the setting sun, reflected at an inopportune angle by the satellite mirrors that kept the city bright. Flits of movement manifested behind the chairs, and suddenly, Vader winced inwardly, realizing what he was looking at: Jedi younglings.

Anakin suddenly roused himself again, revulsion tinting his thoughts: _They're just younglings. How can you do this? What kind of creature have you become?_

Vader was distracted; a brave young Padawan had stepped out, fear on his sweet features. "Master Skywalker! There's too many; what are we going to do?" he quavered, trying to sound brave, a child imitating his elders.

_You sick creature, _Anakin hissed.

_It's for Padme._

_Let's not hear any more nonsense about 'it's for Padme'. Do you seriously think she would approve of this – for any reason?_

_You can't live without her, _Vader snapped.

_But can you live with this young blood on your hands?_ Anakin demanded.

_Silence! _Vader roared.

But Anakin pressed the attack. _Can you imagine what Padme will say when she hears of this? Do you think she will acquiesce, see this as an act of love? It's an act of savagery. Children, Anakin! Children!_

And suddenly, it was as if a black cloud lifted and light – clear blue light – shattered the illusion. Anakin suddenly saw, saw everything. Sidious flattering him, tickling the young Knight's itching ears, spouting about 'saving Padme'. Then, after all those promises, he'd said, _"Only my Master ever achieved the ability to sustain life…" _

He'd lied. He couldn't save Padme. Sidious had _lied! _Anakin had been manipulated all along; Sidious had subtly turned him against the Jedi, twisting his thoughts, feeding blasphemy into his ears. Vader knew. He knew now. Yet even now, knowing the truth – he hesitated, teetering on the brink --

And all at once, as his hand seemed to involuntarily reach down to bring up the hilt of his saber, as his thumb activated the blade, the Padawan jumping at the sudden noise, Vader decided.

He knelt.

"Padawan, we will make our stand here."

Vader and Skywalker had become one. The solid confidence and warm compassion of Anakin Skywalker now melded with the glowing incandescent supernova that was Darth Vader's anger.

Sith – Jedi. _I am Darth Vader. But I am also Anakin Skywalker._

The Padawan nodded grimly, and now the others came out, nervously picking their way across the tiled floor. One young girl suddenly burst into tears. "What will they do to us?"

Anakin slid across the floor and put an arm around the little seven-year old, wondering, _My child… will I ever see her when she is this age? _Then, wondering exactly what to say, because now _all _the Padawans were looking to _him _for protection and guidance: "I don't know. But I do know that we will do the best we can to keep them away from this place."

Then, standing, he felt the old confidence flowing through him again, making a molten volcanic river in his heart that ran through his arms and his legs, fed by the Force, preparing him for what was to come.

Grinning that old smirk of his, he turned to the children and said, "Children, we will barricade the doors with the seats here, and lock the doors as best we can. I want all of you to be ready to do just as Master Yoda taught you, but not until you must. I will stand before the door and protect you."

The Padawan who had first stepped forward spoke again: "But Master, we are not allowed to turn up the power of our blades unless an older Jedi gives permission."

Anakin nodded grimly. "I am giving permission."

Soon, this work was done. Small blades were held in the younglings' hands, blades humming now with higher intensity. Anakin made a few quick motions with the Force, moving the chairs into place, blocking the doors. He did not yet want to destroy the door controls before he had to.

Then, he reached out into the Force again, now gripping it in his iron hand, manipulating, refusing to surrender to its will. He would survive this day, live to see his wife, his children. To see Obi-Wan and… try to atone for his actions. From afar, he sensed the oncoming clone troopers, implacable, remorseless. They would be surprised to see Vader standing against them, but soon that would wear off, and Anakin would have to do his utmost. And after that… he would live. Or die.


	5. Darth Sidious

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Cinq: Darth Sidious

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Anakin rested quietly, meditating in the wash of Force power that still flowed in the Temple. It was particularly strong here, a place where the greatest Jedi of the Order – beings for which Anakin still held disgusted contempt – had deliberated for ages. It strengthened him in the Light, and, by consequence, in the Dark, for subdued feelings, forbidden by the Code, had even existed here. Fear from Mace Windu, anger from Yoda, and… Obi-Wan… was that… love? 

Anakin almost fell from the current of the Force that he rode, as the vestigial feelings of Obi-Wan Kenobi rose in a cresting wave beneath him. Anakin finally came to several realizations at once.

First: Obi-Wan had loved him as brother.

That was no great shock; Anakin had loved him as well, but Obi-Wan was different; he wasn't supposed to _love_, he was the quintessential Jedi of all Jedi – and he actually _loved? _

Second: Obi-Wan had known about Padme.

Anakin grimaced. Obi-Wan had been torn. Should he help Anakin with Padme, knowing what stability it gave his friend's life, or should he be loyal to the Order? An impossible conundrum, Anakin realized – almost as difficult as the one Sidious had placed before him a few hours prior.

Now flaming rage at Sidious added itself to Anakin's ice-cold bitterness and anger, and he began to actively search for clones, noting a few stragglers here and there, in the hallways, making their way up, inexorably up... toward where he was standing, passionately impassionate, before a huddled cluster of terrified younglings.

An echo in the Force caught his attention. Clone troopers, nine of them, making their way toward the Council chamber, riding the turbolift toward their imminent death at the hands of a Jedi-turned-madman.

Opening his eyes to the Padawans behind him and closing them to that oil-slicked pool of the Force, he said, "They are coming, Padawans. Get down behind the barricade. I shall handle this… personally."

The younglings obeyed without question, now gathering behind the makeshift barricade that they had created. Now some of their fear began to calm; the Master would care for them.

Anakin felt this collective thought in the Force as he stepped out the door and stood before the door of the turbolift, waiting, waiting… knowing that he could only do so much, suddenly feeling his unlimited confidence wane, realizing that he could die here, and he'd never see his wife again… that he might actually _fail _for once in his life.

Vader stirred angrily. _That Sith-spawn, Sidious, did this to us._

Anakin nodded absentmindedly. _He tricked us. We were just a tool._

_A pawn, _Vader acquiesced.

The turbolift door opened with a _hiss_, echoed by Anakin's blade firing to life. Before the clones could react, a blue lightsaber blade had taken off hands and arms, and they were staggering back, wondering _what in the worlds could have sent Vader off the deep end _just as their template lives were burned away.

A random shot suddenly struck the turbolift controls, and the door hissed shut, almost catching Anakin in it, and he sprang back as one last living clone tried to step up as the door came to, catching him by the arm. The soldier let out a scream of terror as the turbolift dropped to the ground level, called by another squad of troopers at the lower levels.

Anakin couldn't suppress a grimace as he kicked the severed arm aside. _How unpleasant._

Suddenly, the turbolift on the other side of the hall was open, and as blue blaster bolts flashed through, Anakin became the Hero with No Fear again. He was among the troopers now as they tried to escape the deathtrap, spreading in a semi-circle of blistering blue fire that the dark Jedi Knight turned aside with an easy twirl of his saber. Spinning, ducking across the floor, his very body was a weapon, blade slicing through armorplast, the Force shattering glare visors.

Yet the troopers still came, blindly rushing to their destruction, driven by some force that Anakin couldn't see but he could _feel…_ It was getting closer now as he backed away, toward the doors of the Council chambers, toward the younglings who waited, earnestly expecting Anakin to save them as he fought against impossible odds.

This was what he was born for. Saving people.

And then, through the eye of the Force, framed by shimmering red, he could see him.

_Darth Sidious._

As his blade eagerly trimmed another head from its shoulders, Anakin realized that Sidious was coming to claim him. Vader raged at the idea, and he screamed across the Force, _Come for us, schutta!_

A reply sizzled through the Force. Not one of words, but of lightning.

Anakin had dealt with Sith lightning before. Dooku had blasted him with it on Geonosis at the beginning of this gods-forsaken war. But that was nothing like _this_.

_This _was an angry claw of hatred, dazzling him with its intensity as it tore through the flesh of clone troopers like an angry vaapad, reaching for him, trying to tear his life away. Instead of succumbing, Anakin remembered Obi-Wan, and he raised his saber.

The lightning was suddenly caught, trapped in the grip of Anakin's saber as it scintillated through the air, landing ineffective as Sidious stepped from the shadows, hands upraised, as contorted as the lightning-fingers that spread from the depths of his soul.

Suddenly, they were all alone. Just Darth Vader and Darth Sidious. The former apprentice, and the former master.

Anakin grimaced as he held back the phosphorescent bolts, letting their grinding hatred flow into him, empowering yet weakening him with each passing second. Then, bitter, caustic rage filling him, he spoke:

"Darth Sidious. When I left you, I was the learner. Now, _I _will be the Master."

Sidious grinned a tortured grin, the corners of his deformed mouth turning up in an expression of amusement. "A master of what, pray tell? You are a traitor, Anakin Skywalker. A traitor to the Republic, a traitor to the Jedi, a traitor to the Sith. Forlorn and friendless."

The Vader in Anakin recognized the words as the Sith technique of _dun moch_, an attempt to distract the opponent with words, thereby opening them up to… dismemberment, torture, whichever method of death the Sith desired. But the Anakin within him, always undisciplined and unstable, burned at the insult and tried to lunge.

Suddenly, Sidious' lightning was no longer angrily reflecting off of Anakin's lightsaber blade. Now it was actually digging into the flesh of the erstwhile Jedi, slamming him angrily against the closed door to the Council chambers with a resounding _clang. _The Sith Lord laughed deep in his throat. Then, a twitch of the Force and his holdout saber was in his hand, blood-red blade glowing malevolently.

Anakin tried to stir, but for all his rage and hatred, he was impotent. Again. Unable to do anything, just left to sit back and watch as the Sith Lord stepped toward him with all the menace of a vicious rancor. Abandoned by the Force, left to sit back and feel Sidious' saber in his gut, left to hear Sidious' voice down by his ear as the Sith Lord laid his free hand on the Jedi Knight's head, saying, "Let me show you something…"

Watching as he is swept up into the future by a black current of the Force.

Watching as a black-clad figure – _my son _– takes careful, measured steps toward where the Emperor sits.

Watching as Sidious ruthlessly lances the boy with Sith lightning. Unable to move.

Watching as the boy dies, his body turned into a twisted, burned corpse.

_No!_

Watching as the galaxy perishes in holocaust.

And the current dropped him, and he was lying on the floor, Sidious' blade no longer in his gut, but the Sith Lord right in his face, smiling softly, that knowing, patronizing smile that made Vader want to tear the face right off the old man. And once more, Palpatine spoke to his one-time apprentice.

"Congratulations."

Far away from – yet completely within -- the home he had always known, a Dark Jedi falls friendless, unloved, hated by both sides of the conflict. His name is now a watchword for weakness. The Sith revile him. The Jedi draw away from his memory with horror. He is Anakin Skywalker.

And thus enveloped in his thoughts does Darth Vader – Anakin Skywalker – expire, breathing out as blood fills his lungs. In the background noise, he can hear a child's high scream of terror, and he knows that Sidious has found the younglings.

His thoughts go out to his loved ones.

Padme. _I'm sorry, my love. So sorry Please forgive me. _

His unborn child. _Will he ever forgive me before the end?_

Obi-Wan Kenobi. _Old friend, I took you for granted. Forgive me._

Then, in the last seconds as he labors for air that refuses to enter his body, his thoughts suddenly turn to the Force and he realizes that it tried to guide him all along. Trying to keep him on the path of the Light like a familiar Jedi he once knew, and suddenly he sees the face of the Force, wrenched with grief and disappointment: Qui-Gon Jinn. Anakin sobs out to him, screams in sudden agony: _Forgive me!_

_ Then, Anakin Skywalker dreams again. He is swept up through space and time, hurtling past incidents that amaze and confuse him, beings in the throes of war, the deaths of countless innocents in pointless combat again and again and again, until Years later, Luke Skywalker stands over the chasm where the Emperor has just fallen, and he wonders if his father would have been proud. As his eyes open and the synthetic blood-red shine of his blade slowly extinguishes, he contemplates his new title and murmurs it aloud, savoring it as it passes between his lips._

_Dark Lord of the Sith. _

**Never assume that a story is ever, ever done. Return to the source, for there may yet be more to be found...**_  
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	6. ObiWan Kenobi

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Six: Obi-Wan Kenobi

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Obi-Wan Kenobi stumbled across the body of a clone as he and Yoda silently made their way into the turbolift. Tears filled his eyes, and he wondered, _Who could do this?_

He still couldn't bring himself to believe it. Shaak Ti, Jocasta Nu, Cin Drallig, even _younglings… _Only a monster could do such deeds. And… _Where is Anakin? _His heart nearly broke. It was all too much, too much…

At the Jedi Master's side, Yoda grunted as he changed his position, leaning heavily on his gimer stick. His eyes narrowed as he watched the indicators on the turbolift flash; they had reached their destination. _Something wrong here, there is…_

The turbolift door hissed open and Obi-Wan Kenobi slipped out and to one side, silently, professionally. Dead clones littered the ground along with severed limbs and heads. A thin sliver of light still shone through the open door to the Council chamber and he blanched, knowing what must be inside.

Suddenly, he stumbled over something small and round that lay near the wall. A strange premonition suddenly manifested in his head, as he bent to retrieve whatever it was. His hand closed around a glimmering cylinder about the size and shape of a lightsaber…

His head began to throb and his gut churned with nausea. Tears filled his vision as he moved to the beam of light and lifted the lightsaber into it, somehow knowing what it was.

Anakin's lightsaber.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was renowned throughout the Jedi Order for being the most restrained, calm, detached Jedi that had ever been produced. But Obi-Wan wasn't perfect. He had a forbidden attachment.

Obi-Wan was Anakin Skywalker's friend.

So when he realized that what he was holding was his friend's lightsaber, he did what any man – any man who is not a Jedi – would do upon finding out about the death of a friend.

He dropped to his knees and sobbed.

The waves of churning guilt and grief flooded him as he dropped the weapon and covered his tightly drawn face with his palsied hands. _Dead! He can't be! _he screamed into the Force as he clenched his eyes and his jaw tightly shut. Great convulsing sobs shattered him and he slowly sank down until he was absolutely crushed, just _crushed _beneath the weight of horror.

"Knight Skywalker!" Yoda suddenly exclaimed, and he dropped his gimer stick, lurching toward a dark figure lying by the door to the Council chamber. Obi-Wan did not move, even though he had never heard Yoda so excited before. He had no desire to see his friend's body. Another dry heave shook him as he slowly stood, tears dripping down the end of his nose.

Then, he suddenly realized what had excited Master Yoda so much as the little Jedi Master slowly lifted the fallen figure by using the Force, and Obi-Wan suddenly thrilled with an impossible hope as a sound came to his ears: a wheezing, choked breath.

Anakin was alive. Blood was streaming from the corners of his mouth in twin oil-glossy lines, but he was alive.

Obi-Wan rushed over to his friend and fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around him, pulling him to his chest. Yoda stood and called his gimer stick to his hand. "Finish our business, we must. I shall recalibrate the beacon. Take young Skywalker to Senator Organa, will you?" he asked, grim.

Obi-Wan looked up as he tried to drape Anakin across his shoulders without success. "Of course. Can you handle --?"

Yoda cut him off with a look. "No time. Go." And with that, the Jedi Master was gone.

Obi-Wan paused for a moment and clutched Anakin's head to his chest. There was long moment in which he sat enveloped within the Force, willing it into his friend's body, and finally, his confused, twisted thoughts became clear.

_Live. Live, my friend._

* * *

Dead. 

Blackness.

_Is this… death? It is like sleep. Restful. No difference at all…_

And Anakin Skywalker was awake again. He choked on something, a tube in his throat, tried to breathe in, found that he couldn't. He panicked for a second, until he opened his eyes to a floating world of blue-tinged green.

_A bacta tank? But I was dead._

Then, a voice in the Force. Familiar: _Not if I have anything to say about it, old friend._

Anakin slowly twisted in the surreal buoyancy until through the wavering haze, he saw a man standing with his arms folded, a small beard, flaming red hair, a subtle smile, perhaps a hint of sorrow in the eyes…

_Obi-Wan!_

The Jedi Master smiled wanly. "Hello there."

All Anakin could do was nod. For suddenly, all that he had done, all that he had allowed himself to become, flooded back into his senses and seared him like a red-hot knife. He had thought he was dead, but by some chance of the Force, he had been brought back. But the others, the ones he had killed with his own hands –

They weren't coming back.

_Padme. Where is Padme?_

_My child?_

He felt himself now in the Force just barely, his powers of perception weakened, utterly helpless, with everything he held dear _gone. _Just gone. All that he had left was himself. Which was all he was ever going to have, anyway.

Then, twisting his agonized limbs, throwing his head back, the Vader in him began to scream a long, terrible scream that knifed through the Force, blindly reached to grip anything, everything, and crushed it. Tortured metal wrenched and snapped and he let the dark side in, a pounding red surf that crested high and broke until he lay trembling, shuddering in a puddle of bacta on a freezing cold med-bay floor, and Obi-Wan Kenobi was standing nearby, horrified at what he was seeing. He suddenly understood, understood all too well. _Anakin _had worked that slaughter. Anakin, his best friend, a murderer. And something more:

Anakin Skywalker –

Had fallen –

To the Dark Side.


	7. Alderaan

**_

* * *

Sept: Alderaan

_**

_

* * *

_

_

Three years later…

_

Anakin sat hunched at the rough table, fiddling with his mug of caffe. Watching the HoloNet feed in the upper corner of the cantina, he absent-mindedly traced the scar that split the skin above and below his right eye. Feeling the tingle in the damaged tissue made him think back to a lush green planet… a temple… the Dark Side.

He shook his head once, violently, to clear the thought, and wondered if all would work out according to plan today. He was no longer a Sith, but not a Jedi – he felt that he had transcended such names. He was beyond both; he no longer had to rely solely on anger for strength, yet he did not deny himself the darker emotions.

Sith – Jedi. Neither.

It was painful, he thought, to leave behind something he had grown up under, the Jedi Order. Difficult. But not so much now; he'd seen the truth, the light in things. Part of what Palpatine had told him _had _been true: the Force was simply the Force, neither Dark nor Light, just a continuing grayscale. All power was now within his grasp. There was no black and white in the Force. There was just him. Gray.

This plan… years in the making. Years. He thought back, considering the… the betrayal. After all he'd done, all he had accomplished for the Jedi, ending the Clone Wars, stopping the senseless violence, and Obi-Wan had said, _"I'm sorry, but you're still a Sith, Anakin. And Sith and Jedi do not mix." _

Anakin would have killed Obi-Wan right then and there, if he hadn't been completely outnumbered as well as in utter shock. Yoda had been standing there, relaxed but cautious, that little green body ready to move instantly. Bail Organa had been there, mouth agape, hand reaching for his blaster pistol. Then, Obi-Wan again:

_"I think it would be best if we… parted ways, Anakin."_

_"What about my child? What about Padme?"_

The unfathomable look, the unfathomable thought, the unfathomable horror, coming from the lips of the man who was once his best friend:

_"I'm sorry, Anakin."_

Tears filled the corners of Skywalker's eyes, and he vowed again that he would find vengeance.

* * *

Padme nuzzled Leia fondly, and the little girl giggled. "Off to Master Yoda with you, now," she murmured, laughing gently. The girl bobbed her head solemnly. "Yes, mama," and was off. 

_So like her father, _she thought, and a pang of grief touched her. Dead. Never to return. Those were the words Obi-Wan had used. Momentary grief distracted her, then she turned back to reality, smiling wanly as little Leia danced away.

Padme felt old and tired, wrung out like a wet cloth, hardened from lack of use. Long, horrible years, life without her life, life under this Empire, hiding, always hiding, hunted like a pack of womprats.

It seemed impossible that she had been hiding in this underground bunker for three years. Just not possible. Living with Yoda, C-3PO, Leia, a host of bodyguards. Leia was already becoming adept in the Force, carrying her own little training saber around as Yoda taught her to use it, playful, imaginary duels with evil but ineffective villains, life always clear-cut, black and white.

_If only reality were that way, _the erstwhile Senator thought as she sat down heavily at her desk, picking up a holopad. _I used to think that way, didn't I? We both did. Visions of love and heroism, good always winning. Poor Anakin._

_Anakin._

* * *

Boba Fett peered through the macrobinoculars with an annoyed look. He was being well paid for this job, but blast it, nothing was worth this utter boredom. He ought to be going in there right now, guns blazing, just blast the flaming place into ash, shoot 'em all, get the packages, get out. Simple, straightforward. Mandalorian. But the Hooded Man said that it wasn't that easy, that there mustn't be any 'collateral damage'. _Well, by the seven Corellian hells! Somebody's gonna die. Isn't going to be me._

The Hooded Man. Fett had been working for this man for a year now, still didn't know his name. Never even saw his face; the guy almost always wore a half-mask of black armorweave, eyes shadowed. _Not good business, _he thought, _not knowing your employer. Might anger some higher-ups, get your miserable tail chased halfway across the galaxy. _

Suddenly, he saw it, even with the unaided eye, the signal. There was the man, dressed like the locals, didn't have the mask, but had on an off-white armorweave cloak, hood up. The bright flash, the mirror, and he quickly responded with his own. The affirming nod, and they both moved, Fett across the rooftops, the Hooded Man through the street, headed toward the queen's residence.

* * *

Yoda smiled and shifted a little as Leia slowly began to levitate, floating, feeling now, that little four-year-old body and mind, so innocent, so pure, a fountain of light, not a single shadow within her. He had been a Jedi Master for centuries, and there was nothing he loved more than training a youngling. Yoda was convinced that children were gifts from the Force, little sparkling Corusca gems, waiting to be purified, all smiles and laughter. 

A toy, a little doll dressed in Coruscant reds began to float now, hovering near Leia, revolving around her. It was followed by a holo-reader, the accompanying stylus, then a little red ball, and now she was in the halo of clarity, the perfection.

Yoda could feel it now too, felt that they were making progress today. The Force had never been so strong with Leia, so light, pristine, like the lakes of Naboo. He reveled in the strong but gentle presence, worshipped the Force, surrendering to its will all over again, and he felt alive, alive like never before…

…and suddenly, he was rocked by an intrusion, a moving shadow in the Force, like a projection, somewhere here in this city. Darkness. No, that was not right. More like a twilight. A dying sun. A malevolent will, with loving motives. A dichotomy. Danger.

Yoda's eyes snapped open and he stood.

Anakin Skywalker was on Alderaan.


	8. Master Yoda

**_Yeah,I know. It's been ages since I updated. Don't blame me. I moved. ;) Anyway, here it is. Pardon any lack of quality; I'm a bit rusty.

* * *

_**

Jedi Master Yoda

* * *

Yoda was not one to question the ways of the Force. It always seemed to know what it was doing. Yet this seemed rather… senseless. All the time they had spent trying to protect Luke and Leia from the Emperor, and Anakin Skywalker crops up, completely unexpected.

But the Jedi Master remained calm about the whole mess as he escorted Leia and Padme into the lower level of the bunker. A twitch from the Force poked the button that opened the starship-class blast door, and Yoda hurried his charges inside.

Padme Amidala, that face still young but with those impossibly old eyes, whispered something to Leia. The little girl nodded and toddled off as her mother turned to Yoda, the grief in her eyes again. "What is going on?" she asked, quiet.

Yoda remembered. They had told her that Anakin had perished in the defense of the Temple – which was true, from a certain point of view – in order to assuage her pain. Se thought he was dead. Dead and gone. Taken from her by Palpatine.

Yoda brushed the thought aside, then: "If you do not know, for the best it will be."

Padme showed a momentary flash of anger – the old Senator – but shrugged, nodded her thanks, walked back into the inner chamber. Yoda turned away as the blast door hissed shut behind him and the durasteel barrier lowered into place. Thicker than a lightsaber's length.

As he raced back up the corridor to the security room, he wondered if she had ever thought about that, how everything was tailored to defend against… Sith. The thick barricades. The hidden turrets with shielded schematics. The ray shields along the halls. All to stop Palpatine.

Alderaanian security could handle stormtroopers, but a Sith Lord? No. Even Yoda could not bring down Palpatine in the moment of his power. He tried not to think about those nearly fatal moments, the black hole in his mind, the sudden opening of a wellspring of power, seeking, crushing, blazing energy. Failure. He let the shame fill him, then, with an effort, he forced it out.

Skywalker would come, and he would find them. Yoda would be ready. As he always was.

And, as he stepped up to the holoprojector, he knew that he would have… backup on the way.

* * *

Far off Tatooine, distant sand-pit, raped by hot winds, ravaged by the Hutts, a shell, devoid of value. This was what anyone who was not Obi-Wan Kenobi saw. Obi-Wan Kenobi saw a valuable safe haven, a place where he only had to worry about dodging stormtroopers and bounty hunters. No self-respecting Sith would set foot on this rock. Except maybe Darth Maul. And look where he was.

Obi-Wan barely scanned the holopad in his hand, barely seeing the words that shimmered on the screen. His mind was distracted by the movements and channels of the Force he felt maneuvering in the back room of his little hovel, far off from what passed for civilization. _Such strength, _he thought.

Luke Skywalker was an amazing little boy. Kenobi had come to that conclusion some time ago. As strong as his father. Maybe stronger. Hopefully. The boy learned so quickly, and mastered his lessons with easy, childish grace.

A loud beep cut into his thoughts and he rose. The holocomm. He strode into his bedroom. On the floor to the side of his cot was a starship-class full-body holopad, a gift from Bail Organa so that he and Yoda could communicate. An incoming message from Alderaan.

He stepped onto the holopad and waved his hand over the activator. As he expected, Yoda suddenly appeared, scanned into existence by a laser beam. "Hello, Master. How are things on Alderaan?"

Yoda told him.

* * *

Luke waved goodbye from the arms of his Aunt Beru as Obi-Wan's one-man craft slowly lifted from the desert sands and fired its sublights. Grit and dirt ballooned from the makeshift launch pad, and Kenobi was off.

His thoughts raced as he closed his hands over the alien controls. General Grievous' personal craft. He was still using it after all these years – according to Imperial records it was destroyed at Utapau, so no danger remained in zipping around the galaxy in it.

But that was a momentary distraction. Yoda's words still weighed in his chest, as if he had suddenly caught pneumonia.

_Here, Anakin Skywalker is._

Obi-Wan was not ready for this. He was not ready to face his friend in combat, to strike to kill. He simply _could not do it. _And since he couldn't do it, he'd choke up, not be able to fight, and Anakin would kill him, kill Yoda, steal away Padme and Leia, chaos, a broken galaxy, shattered by reckless powers beyond the understanding of those who wielded them, clashes of Dark Side energy obliterating all that was yet good in this universe, everything the Jedi had fought for, everything they had defended, the Force gone, wiped out, all life…

Obi-Wan stopped, breathed in, sucked in the fear, and breathed out, releasing the stress. He would go. He would do what the Force told him to do. No more. No less.

_Even if it means killing Anakin?_

* * *

The satchel charge in that particular part of the street, just where he'd been told. The Hooded Man was standing off some distance, watching for any intrusions. None. No civilians, not even Order Enforcement was around here. This pleased Fett.

Then, activating the timer, he fired his jetpack and got behind some cover. Five kilos of heavy ordnance wouldn't do much for him. He waited for the ground-shaking explosion.

It came.

Fire and brimstone shot dozens of meters into the sky, melted durasteel, scraps of duraplast and ferrocrete. The Hooded Man was already moving, diving through the hole even before the dust had settled, and Boba Fett followed him, yanking back the bolt on his flamethrower.

He heard the buzz before he saw what produced it, and when he did, his heart jumped into his throat. Which, for Boba Fett, was saying something.

The Hooded Man was carrying a blue lightsaber.

Fett swore, once, twice. _A Jedi! _The Order that had killed his father. The Hooded Man gave him a single look, then strode forward into the flaming wreckage of the room that they had emerged into.

Fett scowled beneath his helmet and cursed the man with everything he had. He couldn't kill him; the guy could probably take his head off almost instantly. All he could do was his job. _Well, fierfek. _

* * *

The explosion had not really surprised Yoda. He was ready. Obi-Wan was on his way, should be here soon, traveling at twice lightspeed, as fast as his ship could go. He felt calm now, wrapped in the Force, a bulwark against the twilight that moved his way.

He drew his saber, felt with the Force for his enemy, who was slowly roving through the halls. Viciously. Yoda spotted several guards writhing on the ground, castrated, limbs missing, scorched from Sith lightning. Some with wounds from a blaster rifle. That would be the Mandalorian Anakin had brought with him. None dead. Curious.

Suddenly, he felt a surge in his enemy's power and he charged ahead, trying to confront the blackness, the Dark Side, before it found what it sought. He rounded the corner, speeding in the Force, and stopped short –

Anakin Skywalker, clad all in white, was standing at the end of the hallway, dismantling a security guard. Beyond him was a man in green-accented armor, blaster rifle blazing away, driving back security.

Yoda clenched the green bar of plasma in his hand, gathered himself, and lunged.

Anakin felt the attack coming, heard the alien scream behind him, whirled, saber coming up, deflecting the vicious blow, spinning aside, throwing back his hood.

He recognized this figure. "Master Yoda."

Yoda gathered himself again, crouched low, prepared to attack once more. "Young Skywalker. Come for your wife and child, have you?"

Anakin nodded, flourished his saber, remembering the Temple. "I have. Stand aside, and you shall not be harmed."

Yoda raised his brows. "Threats? Perhaps learn you should, about the danger of threats. Distract, they do."

Anakin laughed, that cocky chuckle of his. "Thank you for the lesson, Master Yoda. Now stand aside."

Yoda straightened. "No."

Anakin's eyes narrowed, the scar above his eye crinkling. "Very well."

* * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi raced through the smoke-filled hallway, feeling the clash of the two powers, hoping against hope that he would not have to do anything, closer, drawing closer, rounding one corner, shooting through a room, into another hall, hearing the clash of lightsabers now, praying to the Force, _please, please, please…_

He stepped into the hall. And there they were.

Anakin Skywalker and Yoda, faced off, sabers locked, hissing like jewelsnakes.

And he knew what the Force was calling him to do.


	9. Heliophobia

**A/N: Hot dog, it feels like it's been forever. Maybe 'cause it has? Ah, well. I'm picking this sucker back up again, with intents to finish it. Maybe another twenty chapters will do it. Again, probably kind of rusty on the feel of this story, but I'll get it back soon enough. ;-)**

* * *

**_Neuf: Heliophobia_**

* * *

It would be an exaggeration to say that time stopped. But Obi-Wan Kenobi felt as if it had. Standing there in the low-slung, gray passage, staring over Yoda's head at the lithe figure he hadn't seen in three years... his concentration was shattered, and his grip on the Force fled. 

Anakin Skywalker cocked his head and grinned. "The Force works in strange ways." That was all.

Obi-Wan would later admit that he did not expect what happened. He had anticipated an exchange of words, threats, perhaps more posturing. Instead, Anakin flipped his white cape with a _tape-à-l'oeil _flourish, deactivated his saber, and disappeared. A shimmering, atmospheric anomaly shone in the air for a moment, then vanished, leaving a bewildered Boba Fett standing in the passage.

Yoda lunged toward the Mandalorian, but the mercenary was too quick. Rolling to the side, he fetched the Jedi Master a blow with his rifle, then slipped into a side passage.

The ancient Jedi Master hopped to his feet with Force-enhanced agility. "Follow the Mandalorean," he ordered. "After young Skywalker, I shall go."

Kenobi returned to reality, shook his head. "No, Master... I must be the one to confront Anakin. I know him, I know how he fights."

Yoda cocked a brow at him. "But slay him, can you?"

Obi-Wan grimaced, hooked his saber back onto his belt. As the Force slowly returned to him, he sensed the presence of his former Padawan - his former friend - somewhere still in the compound. "I will do what I must."

* * *

Anakin slid effortlessly past the two frenzied guards, relishing the feel of the Force on his skin, bending the light away from his body. His saber bloomed in the air, one quick slice to the door controls, and he entered. _The nerve-center of security for this compound. _He smiled to think of it. Palpatine - oh, yes, he had heard rumors of the former Darth Sidious - had not even the slightest that this was here; Anakin had made certain of that. It would have wholly defeated his purpose if Palpatine had found this hidden refuge, and it would have meant death for that which he held dearest: his wife, and his children. 

Once within, he crouched in the shadows by the door. To his surprise, the security officer and his own personal guards had not heard his entry. They were scurrying back and forth, observing monitors, manipulating equipment, trying their hardest to observe his movements. _Fifteen in all. _Just then, one of the techs began speaking. "Sir... I found a residual heat trail in sector 11."

"Damn... that's Security," the chief muttered. "Where does it lead?"

The young crewman poked at his keyboard for a second, then: "Up corridor 3, right past the... look, there's the guards. But the trail goes on up the... oh, fierfek."

The chief remained silent instead of asking the obvious "What?" Instead, he glared blades into the image on the screen, then collapsed as his trachea buckled and his severed head plopped down to land in the tech's lap.

"'Afternoon, gentlemen," said Anakin Skywalker.

* * *

Obi-Wan dashed around the corner, lightsaber blazing, and slipped in the blood.

_Oh, no._

Clambering to his feet, he stopped to examine the red swath that his boot had planted itself in, running from beneath a locker grate. He stepped up to it, flicked the lock with his blade. The door sprang open, and an assortment of body parts fell at his feet.

Resisting the extremely strong urge to vomit, he knelt and examined the severed pieces. The limbs had been cauterized at their stumps - the wounds of a lightsaber - but the torso's rib cavity was caved in. Blood still seeped from the wound. Drainage. The body was yet warm, the Jedi realized. Standing, he breathed deep, tried to feel the Force again. But for some reason, he was distracted, unable to sense the currents that he knew raced around him. For a moment, frustration washed over him, but he quickly released it, breathing deeply. "Very well," he murmurered. "Use what you know."

He slipped a small flimsiplast datapad out of the pocket of his robe and looked around. Surely there was a datajack... there. A maintenance droid, oblivious to the chaos, came whirring around the corner and entered a side room - a charging socket. Obi-Wan followed, finally finding something to focus on. He slipped in behind it and quickly examined the cramped space. Four power sockets lined the wall in front of him, the droid he had followed plugging itself in to the one furthest to the right. The rest were empty.

The Jedi bent over to examine them - sure enough, just above the socket was a data jack, placed there so that the droids could update their software and revise the status of the building's infrastructure. Just what he needed.

He quickly plugged in and downloaded the compound's layout, thanking Qui-Gon Jinn. _"The Force is a wonderful thing. But dependance on it is like an addiction to death sticks. If you are ever disconnected from it, you will be unable to function. So learn to use your mind, as well as your feelings." _

Rising, he examined the schematics. He was not far from the security office; that would be a good place to start. They could likely give him more information on how best to search the place, perhaps even a good idea of where Anakin was heading. His thoughts wandered to Padme and Leia... hidden somewhere here. Yoda had never told him where, just that it was 'secure.'

But a nagging feeling filled him that no place was safe from Anakin, a feeling that soon blossomed into crippling apprehension...


	10. Emetophobia

**A/N: One thing that I have always thought is that the Force was never tapped to its fullest potential. Get ready for some craaazy stuff in upcoming chapters. ;-)**

* * *

**_Dix: Emetophobia_**

* * *

Yoda blurred down the passage, a dim green streak to holocams and a rush of wind to Alderaanian security. He was in hot pursuit of the Mandalorean, who was obviously very clever. He used every trick of the trade - active camouflage, heat flares, boosts from his rocket pack. Everywhere he went, he left smoking corpses, testament to his skill in battle. Yet Yoda could not seem to find just where he was; the Force was dimmed and hazy, like mist enshrouding a moor. The Jedi Master knew instinctively that this was not caused by a lack of focus - he was eminently centered upon the task at hand. Rather, something was drawing upon the Force so heavily that its will was being turned, turned away from Yoda, out of his reach, out of his control... the one who was doing this had to be Anakin Skywalker. 

Blazing around the corner, Yoda spotted a flash of movement just ahead. The flutter of a cloak? Operating on instinct, he charged toward it, lightsaber coming to his hand. Suddenly, a dim prickle buzzed in his mind and he threw himself sideways -

- just as the thermal det-pack exploded. Sizzling chunks of durasteel and ferrocrete exploded in a gout of fire. The Jedi Master was bowled sideways, slamming hard against a bulkhead, bones popping. Debris followed a second later, burying him almost completely. A harsh bark of a laugh echoed in the sudden silence, another muted thump - some kind of plastic explosive - then more silence.

Yoda wondered why the Force had deserted him at such an inopportune time. Then, as darkness encroached upon his battered body, he realized that this had always been Skywalker's plan.

* * *

Anakin ducked the sizzling blaster bolt and jumped, whirled in mid air. As the spun, he threw out a boot in a reverse roundhouse that clipped the guard in the jaw and smashed him against the wall. He slid down, jaw cracked, knocked cold. 

Anakin paused there, standing over the injured guard. The Force was so strongly with him that every inch of the compound was revealed to him, the movement of every attacker before they made it. The power was so thrilling, so intoxicating, that he would have gladly induced vomiting to make more room for the Force in his body. But Padme called to him from afar - Padme, and the child he had never seen. Like a glowing beacon, shimmering on the horizon, it inexorably drew him. So he went on, moving with intense purpose, filled with anticipation and joy.

But at that moment, the Force spoke to him again, a sudden apprehension. Something was approaching. He probed it, examined it. Obi-Wan? No, for it was more than one consciousness... yet the minds were so alike, they might have been the same person.

_The same person. _

Suddenly, it became clear. Clones.

* * *

"Communications have been cut off with the rest of the compound, sir," the wary security agent replied. He was standing straight and tall, facing Obi-Wan as directly as his thick blast armor would allow him. 

The Jedi Master nodded. "How many are you?" he asked, surveying the durasteel blast shields that blocked the entrance.

"Twenty four of the best," the guard replied. "No one - I mean _no one - _gets in here."

"Any chance of reinforcements from surface-side?" the Jedi asked.

The guard shrugged. "When I volunteered for this op, Command said that we were _it. _No reinforcements, no help. We were supposed to be under the radar, so that the Imps wouldn't know," he replied, and tilted his head to the side. "We're alone - not that that's a problem," he added, smirking.

Obi-Wan folded his arms and grumbled a little. The guard's bombast was not encouraging him in the least, but it was better than nothing. He turned and examined the entry shaft. It opened into this hallway - the only entry into this hallway - which was the only way to get to the sealed bunker. It was narrow, barely wide enough for two men to walk abreast. It could easily be clogged with blaster fire; Obi-Wan certainly wouldn't like to try his chances against it. Of course, he had not even the slightest grip on the Force now - perhaps enough to fight, but it was so far away from his greatest potential, that he had to fight against the feelings of helplessness. He could not sense Yoda, he could not sense Anakin, he could barely feel the minds of the guards around him.

For the first time in his life, he had nothing to rely on but himself.

* * *

_"It's a hole, sir."_

"Dammit, Twelve, I'm not kidding. What the hell is going on? Over."

A moment of static left Zeta-01 temporarily nonplussed. This had to be _the _weirdest day of his cloned life. The most pointless orders ever delivered... well, maybe except for the Purge. _Yeah, that was... madness. _Three notches in his rifle's barrel marked the kills he'd garnered that day.

Then, Twelve's voice over the radio: _"A crater in the road - right in the middle of the industrial district.. My guess is plastic explosives. I can't get a read on what's beneath it... some kind of chamber, over." _

Zeta-01 sighed. "Right." He paused, considered his orders: _Investigate, report to Imperial Section Four, neutralize any hostiles. _"OK, Zetas, we form up on Twelve." Behind him, Zeta-26 asked, _"What are our orders, sir? This seems like a frackin' milk run."_

01 couldn't resist a laugh. "It's never a milk run with you around, 26. But you'll like this: it's a recon bang-'n'-blow job. Extreme prejudice." _Diplomatic tensions here _are _rather stiff, after all. _

If 26's eyes had been visible, 01 would have seen them widen and light up. Instead, he just tilted his helmeted head. The commando cocked the bolt on his customized DC-15 blaster rifle, and chuckled into the comm, _"Extreme prejudice. I _like _it."_

* * *

Boba Fett trotted back down the way he'd come. It wasn't that hard to pick his way through the chaos. He'd done what the Hooded Man had told him to do, and everything else could just go space itself. He was getting out of here; the job had never mentioned anything even remotely resembling _Jedi. _The credits had already been wired to his account on Coruscant, and he would content himself with that - and never work with that maniac again. 

Coming to the smoking, gaping hole in the floor, he activated his jetpack and spurted up through the smoke, past the odd layers of sewer pipes and crumbling masonry, into the sunlight of Alderaanian day. He turned in midair, slung his blast rifle about his shoulder. Now, to get back to Slave I...

Suddenly, his jetpack was screaming and spurting flame as a wave of blaster bolts scorched the air around him and impacted on the steel-ceramic alloy of his armor, breaching the fuel packs on his back. Cursing, he braced himself as the pack yanked him into a sickening spiral and dumped him back toward the ground. He reoriented himself as more bolts barely missed him, and slapped two buttons on the jaw of his helmet. One vented the emergency air supply of his suit, slowing him as he reached back and pressed a button on the jetpack.

Just before he would have hit the ground at near-terminal speed, the suit completed its venting and his pack suddenly shot loose from his armor and shot into the air again, making drunken spirals until it impacted into the ground.

_Blam, blam. _

Two high power DC-15 sniper bolts impacted just beneath his jaw. They were perfectly aimed by the hand of Zeta-12, a renowned marksman amongst commandos. His shots pierced the environmental seal that connected Fett's helmet to his pauldrons, entered Fett's jaw, shattered his spinal column, and exited from the other side, putting a large split in his helmet and felling him. Blood poured out of his mouth in a glossy red stream, and drained down into his armor, thick, wet, sticky... Inwardly, Fett cursed. He didn't even think about the fact that he'd been shot; he didn't particularly care who had shot him. All blame belonged in one place. _I'm dead. I'm dead. Damn the Jedi!_

Twelve stepped up to Fett, 26 right behind him. He toed the limp Mandalorean body and nodded. _"Clean kill."_ Twenty-six glanced at him. _"No way, Twelve. He's still alive; look at that blood."_

Twelve coldly turned away. _"Whatever. He'll bleed out soon enough anyway, the dumbshit."_


	11. Necrophobia

**A/N: So. My personal situation will make my updating a little spotty. But it will (hopefully) also make my writing better. ;-)**

* * *

**_Onze: Necrophobia_**

* * *

Anakin felt the death of the Mandalorian in the Force. It thrummed in his ears, the extinguishing of another soul. And he again felt the oncoming presence of four identical minds: the clones. Anger brushed him again, and he grimaced, continued walking. Not far ahead, he could sense Padme. Standing in his way were a group of presences - and one of them was Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

Vader stirred, as he had not done for some time. _Now - vengeance at last._

Anakin nodded. _He will suffer as she and I have suffered. _

Vader: _Slow._

Anakin: _Painful. _

The Dark Side now rushed into him as rage began to rise in his gut. It filled him with a burning need for blood, a lust for death almost as strong as his desire for his wife. He was close now, and he drew upon more and more of the Force, sucking in so that it whirled around him like a planet rotates around a star.

Or, perhaps more like a black hole.

His saber shot into his hand, gleaming blue, sizzling plasma. His mechanical hand clenched the grip so tightly that the servomotors whined and hissed. And then, gulping all of the Force that he could contain, he lunged around the corner and -

* * *

- Obi-Wan instantly attacked. Instinct charged his nerves, and he brought his blade down with the force of a falling weight. Anakin lurched aside and caught it - just barely - and slid aside. He sent a thrust in his ex-master's direction, then bounded off of one of the walls and spun, throwing a kick in Obi-Wan's direction. The Jedi ducked it, lunged forward, right in Anakin's face, their blades snapping blue fire in all directions.

Obi-Wan ducked low, spun, throwing a foot at Anakin. The young man jumped it, swung down. His blade whizzed through air and sprayed sparks across the floor. Obi-Wan charged him again, his shoulder slamming into Anakin's gut. Anakin spun, throwing Obi-Wan off, slid to one side, impossibly smooth, impossibly fast. Now Obi-Wan stood between Anakin and the huge blast door at the end of the chamber.

Behind the Jedi Master, security raised their weapons, suddenly unsure. With Obi-Wan between them and their target, accuracy would be a problem - let alone the difficulty of fratricide. But Obi-Wan could barely sense the Force, and thus, he could not know of his mistake. He acted purely on the emotions that were fighting within him now: frustration, sorrow, pain. He launched a flurry of blows that Anakin parried with infuriating ease, then paused as Skywalker broke off. "Obi-Wan!" the young man said, grinning. "It is good to see you again."

The Jedi Master wiped sweat from his brow, tried to think of some kind of response. Finally: "Anakin - you have no chance. Even if you defeat me, you know as well as I do that the men behind me could easily shoot you to pieces." He paused and readied himself for inevitable battle, even as he tried to stave it off with his words. "Do not do this. Lay down your lightsaber, and you will live."

Anakin shot the Jedi a look. Without meaning to, Obi-Wan had touched on the raw nerve.

"I do not want to live," he replied, stiffening, face dimming. "A life without my love is not life to me."

Obi-Wan kept his mouth a thin line. Anakin had now just touched on something Obi-Wan had considered during his stint as a Padawan, during his relationship with Siri Tachi, and now, during his three-year exile: love. Where did this most noble of human emotions fit within the Jedi Order? It was obviously part of the Light; Obi-Wan had considered it long and hard, but had come to the conclusion that love was a non-sensitive creature's connection to the Light. But now - hearing the pain in Anakin's voice, he suddenly realized that Anakin was being driven by two vast motors: love, and hatred.

_Balance._

The thought struck him between the eyes. Anakin was teetering between both sides of the Force. Pierced between two daggers, each deadly in their own right.

It distracted him.

And thus, he was utterly, ridiculously unprepared when Anakin unleashed the power of the Force, of the Dark Side, within him. The results...

Obi-Wan stared as a liquid wave of pure energy ripped itself from Anakin's half-open mouth, his nose, his staring eyes, and absolutely scorched the passage, blazing like a tunnel of fire directly at Obi-Wan. This wasn't Sith lightning. 'Lightning' was an inadequate descriptor for the incandescent supernova of diamond-pure _rage _that burned the senses and razed the flesh.

And it was coming right for him.


	12. The Fates at War

_**A/N: Shut up. Quit griping. And blame for the fact that I didn't update this sooner. I've had this written for months now, but the stinking document editor/uploader was being a jerk. So here it is; hope it was worth the wait. ;-)**_

_**

* * *

**_

_**Douze: The Fates at War**_

* * *

The maw was Death, thick, crackling blue, with chain-lightning teeth. Obi-Wan Kenobi stared into its raging depths and knew: this was the Harvester of Souls. Time slowed as it flash-burned the air of the passage, but Obi-Wan was not even trying to avoid this maelstrom; it would be pointless. Even if he could step forward and to the left, into the antechamber, he would still be incinerated. Instead, he smiled softly as he realized that he was finally going to have peace, cool, unending quiet. Like he'd always wanted. He flicked his saber in a Jedi salute, and closed his eyes. _Finally._

Suddenly, he felt the force of a shockwave blast against him, hurling him down the passage. A shrieking, electric wail roared in his ears as he slammed down hard against the floor, tangled in a heap with the suddenly scattered security force. He opened his eyes.

He was alive.

A stream of warm blood trickled down his upper lip, and he swiped at it, rising, nonplussed by the sudden silence. His gaze raced back up the twenty feet that he'd been hurled.

All along the walls, the steel had been scorched black by the power of the Force, right up to the place where... the hall crossed with the antechamber. Less than a foot in front of where Obi-Wan had stood. Anakin stood twenty feet back from that, eyes fixed upon a smoldering heap of... something... lying in the hallway.

Robes tattered, skin blistered by the strength of the Dark Side - it was the Jedi Master Yoda, unconscious, unmoving.

It all became clear to Obi-Wan: in the last inches of space between himself and Anakin's attack, Yoda had flown in from nowhere and interposed his body, his mind, his will, between Obi-Wan and impending death. The little alien had surely thrown every ounce of the Force he had into containing the blast; otherwise, he would be nothing more than a pile of cancerous ash. Gratitude flooded the Jedi Master, and he hurried forward. "Yoda!"

Anakin, opposite Obi-Wan, dropped his shoulders and hunched, eyes narrowing. Then, he moved.

His saber twitched into his hand, blade bright, and he bore down upon the fallen alien. Obi-Wan reacted, his own saber flashing to life. The Force suddenly flowed back into Obi-Wan, and he struck. At the same instant, Anakin ducked and threw himself into Obi-Wan with enough force to bowl them across the hall.

The two grappled for control, rolling back across the ground, suddenly breaking, rising. They split, Obi-Wan falling back toward the blast door, Anakin stepping toward the antechamber where Yoda lay. Anakin spared an annoyed glance for the fallen Jedi. "That was... impressive."

Obi-Wan eyed him and fell into a ready stance. "Most impressive."

* * *

Zeta-01 could not believe what he was hearing. Well... he _could _believe it, but he was choosing not to. Three Jedi, all in the same place. Such a thing hadn't happened since the Purge. And to top it off, one of them was the erstwhile Anakin Skywalker. That man had a bounty on his head so high that anyone who collected it could have bought an entire star system. _Huh. Too bad we can't collect in the line of duty. Maybe a commendation in it, though. _

Turning, he glanced over to Zetas Twenty-Six and Twelve. Cowering against the wall before their armorplast visages was a terrified communications technician, face lacerated and bruised from multiple crushing impacts, probably from Twelve's hard fists. _Still, some questions aren't yet answered. _With a few button presses, he pulled out of the cam system, rose from the damaged chair, and stepped across the security room. "Pick him up," he ordered. Zeta-80 stepped forward and hauled the miserable Alderaanian to his feet. One didn't even bother to ask the man anything; he simply kicked him in the groin and, as the victim slumped, he pounded his fist into his chin, jolting the tech further. "Now, enlighten me," Zeta said, turning sideways, facing away from the tech. "What was the purpose of this facility?"

The man hauled himself to his feet, arms locked in Eighty's implacable grasp. Terror filled his eyes, but he said nothing. Zeta scowled beneath his helmet. "Don't make me hurt you," he muttered, dangerous.

That gave the tech some balls, apparently: "Go space yourself, you Hutt-screwing schutta."

Suddenly, the tech was pressed up against the wall, and Zeta-01's wrist vibroblade was humming dangerously close to the victim's eye. "Hutt-screwer, eh?" He paused as the tech whimpered softly, fear bleeding off of him.

Zeta-01 put the grill of his mask close to the tech's ear and solemnly whispered, "You don't know what the word 'screw' really means. Let me show you."

"That was a waste of a good vibroblade," Twenty-six muttered, a mixture of admiration and disgust in his voice. "How do you do it, Boss? I'd have to get myself a new one; I'd be traumatized every time I used it."

_"Damn_... that was harsh, sir." Twelve intoned. Then, the clone laughed: "Think he'll talk when he wakes up?"

Zeta-01 toed the limp, bleeding man and flicked blood from his gauntlet. "Probably singing like a soprano in a Bith opera. Don't care, just as long as he sings the tune I want."

* * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker faced off, sabers ready. They stepped back and forth, looking for openings, but their sabers did not clash. Even so, the steps had a musical quality to them, a rhythm. This was the duel to end all duels, for the Fates, grim and bloodthirsty, gathered on the wings of the Force, coming to watch this symphony perform, each supporting his own actor in the drama. This was their struggle: the duel of fates.

Obi-Wan Kenobi had been credited with being the master of the form of Soresu. It was a simple, understated style of fighting, suave and debonair. His stance, his steps, were the strings quietly laying a dark, brooding line of tension-filled melody, a simple, repeating line of notes in the bass clef. His calm smile was the harp, rising and falling, a hint of personality in the gloomed song that their fight was weaving.

Anakin Skywalker was proficient in all styles, but his favorite was Djem-So. It was an arrogant, brassy style on the outside, with clever, subtle harmonics within. His quick, confident steps were the woodwinds, quickly weaving a melody to intermingle with the strings of Obi-Wan's harmony. Then: he exploded in an attack, the trumpets of the piece, a blaring crescendo that brought this battle to an opening.

They practically danced back and forth along the hallway, sabers blazing blue in the air, flashing, flickering, the crashing cymbals. Obi-Wan spun, lashed out at waist height. Anakin caught the blow and leaped, spinning, throwing that scintillating grace note: the reverse kick. His former master bent back, the kick flying over his head, now counter-attacking ferociously. Now, strike, strike, strike, the pizzicato effect as Anakin drove Obi-Wan back, a punch of timpani as Obi-Wan slammed an elbow into the side of his apprentice's head, side-stepped the charge.

They clashed again, sabers locked in a high, unwavering note, then, breaking as Obi-Wan threw a low kick that buckled Anakin's knee. The Chosen One dropped, ducked his head as Obi-Wan's blade whizzed past, scorching a few locks of hair. Now Anakin returned the kick, and Obi-Wan twisted to one side.

They split again, rolled away, and came to their feet. A pause, and their dark melody quietly began to build once more. Anakin's bitter rage was growing, like the blare of a trombone, roiling and thick, the finesse gone. Obi-Wan deflected the blows with grace, parrying, now suddenly on the attack, a flashing series of blows, like notes spidering across the neck of a viola. And now Anakin returned the blows, and the intensity grew, filling the hall with clashes of the Force, reaching a fever pitch, like a sudden key change.

Now Anakin was dominant, the brass of his thundering blows and whipcrack kicks drowning out Obi-Wan's shuddering strings, embodied in his light footwork and graceful deflections. Then, Obi-Wan took control again, a Force push catching Skywalker's feet, tripping him up: the victory of the strings, suddenly mingling with another timpani-rumble as Kenobi brought his boot slamming down into Skywalker's chin.

The Chosen One was down.

Kenobi took two steps and his saber was at his erstwhile apprentice's throat. "It's over, Anakin."

The hate in the young man's eyes stabbed at Obi-Wan's heart.

"No… no, it isn't."

Suddenly, Kenobi was reeling back down the passage, stricken by an invisible hand, and Anakin was flipping back, his saber coming to his hand. But to Obi-Wan's surprise and dismay, Skywalker did not attack him. Instead, he leaped over and boot-pinned the now stirring form of Master Yoda to the floor. His saber carefully slid underneath the alien's jaw.

_Oh, _Obi-Wan thought. _Oh. _


	13. Wildfire

* * *

**_Trieze: Wildfire_**

* * *

Zeta-01 switched off the comm. "Backup's on the way. We've got two battalions of stormtroopers." Twenty-six looked up from the shuddering tech. "Who's the commanding officer, sir?" Zero-one shrugged as he cocked the bolt on his DC-15 rifle. "Dunno. But we've got new orders."

Twelve visibly perked up, straightening his armored figure. "Great."

Zero-one punched the door controls. "Let's go kill some Jedi."

* * *

Anakin's glare seemed permanently fixed to his face. Obi-Wan stood, frozen in the passage, unable to look away from those burning eyes - the eyes of his Padawan, his friend, his brother in arms… 

…his nemesis.

And his mind traveled back even as his body recoiled into a standoff.

_A wiggly little ten year old boy, awkward and naïve, springing out of bed in the early morning, when dawn hazed the courts of the Temple with mist, the expected miracle of all children, the hope that the bitter galaxy had not yet stolen from him. His master was decidedly not a morning person, but Ani had always been so. The Padawan did have scars upon his tender heart, but he was still the squirming little lad who begged his master to take him to see the speeder races in the mid-levels. And Obi-Wan would always respond, 'Let your Master meditate for fifteen more minutes…' _

_And at night, when Ani would return to their chamber after long hours of study, and Obi-Wan was already there, reading a holobook. The boy would crawl up into Obi-Wan's lap, half-asleep already; the little Padawan's sleepy eyes would say: "I was hoping I would find you here." And Obi-Wan's eyes would reply in various ways, despite what his teachings demanded, "There are no words to tell how much I love you, my child..." _

_Where had it gone? _

The eyes now said, _You are my enemy - your destruction will come at my hand. _

Obi-Wan realized that he had never come to terms with this. All this, crawled through his mind as he straightened, and his voice spoke automatically: "It seems we've reached an impasse." The sick feeling in his gut tightened.

Anakin nodded, smiled. That scar crinkled on his brow. "Indeed. The situation is a simple one. I will let Yoda live, if you will return my wife and child to me."

Obi-Wan knew that that had been coming, but he felt as if he'd been gut punched. The Jedi Master lying on the floor, eyes half-lidded, was Obi-Wan's only friend left in the galaxy. Behind him, the only hope left in the galaxy lay hidden behind a giant steel barricade, decorated with unconscious and dismembered bodies.

Anakin was offering him a choice.

Choose hope, or choose friendship.

He could not have both - thus, he could not decide.

So, Zeta-26 decided for him.

Two DC-15 bolts lashed out of nowhere, out of apparent nothingness. A clone commando suddenly appeared, decloaking, ninety yards down the hallway as Anakin spun with supernatural speed, deflected both blasts with sharp precision. At the same instant, Yoda was scrambling away as quickly as his damaged body would allow him. Obi-Wan was the only one unready for it, his grip on the Force still tentative and uncertain.

He rushed forward to drag his friend out of the way as three more clones appeared and opened fire with ruthlessly accurate shots. Anakin, however, was in supreme control, batting away blasts with eminent skill. Then - _click _- the sharp electronic scream of a thermal detonator.

Anakin growled a profanity and rolled left, into the alcove, behind cover. Obi-Wan interposed himself between Yoda and the small, glowing grenade that clattered to the floor less than three feet in front of him - Death in a package the size of his fist.

Mere seconds to react.

The Force inspired him, and Obi-Wan acted as it spoke. His hand shot out, the Force shouted, and the orb spun back down the hallway and wedged itself in a grate.

Explosives detonated; a gout of fire split the hall. The grate was blown open like a banana peel, and ferrocrete burst into thick chunks, filling the hall with smoke and dust. A shout of disgust from one of the clones rang in the sudden stillness, then blaster fire cascaded down the hall again as the smoke cleared. Zeta-26 popped up over the pile of rubble, let loose a spray of charged ion bolts. The one Jedi that they could still see batted them back - right at him. The clone spun, dodging, but one blast clipped his shield, and he staggered. Zeta-01 swore. "Dammit! Twelve - flashbang!"

Obi-Wan heard this as he moved back toward the blast door, Yoda cradled in one of his arms. The Jedi Master had lapsed into unconsciousness again, eyes rolling behind closed eyelids. Obi-Wan lunged forward with everything he had, a few bolts shooting past him to sizzle on the steel blast door. He searched for the keypad for the door behind all the bodies and rubble that had been piled against the thick durasteel - then, the realization struck him.

He was trapped.

The blast door was completely sealed, and it would take some time for it to open. Not only that, he didn't even have the right door codes to override the lockdown. He turned, Yoda still draped across one arm - just as the flashbang went off.

Obi-Wan was blind and deaf.

Everything went white, and a high squeal filled his ears. Nausea slammed him, churned hard, mind broke, spin - down, twist, lost his grip on himself. He stumbled back, almost dropping Yoda, his extremities tingling, expecting to die at any second - for the second time in ten minutes. This thought was not lost on him.

Just then, he heard an odd sound, like nails on a chalkboard. It cut right through the ringing in his ears that still disoriented him, even as his vision slowly returned. He jerked his head back and forth, frustrated, trying to see what was happening…

Suddenly, he sensed a presence very close to him. Anakin. He fought the urge to vomit. Any second now: blade in his throat.

Then he realized that more importantly, Anakin's _back _was to him.

His hearing had now returned somewhat, but not his sight, or his mental faculties. He could hear blaster fire, the sound of someone screaming in agony. He experienced a mild bit of surprise that it wasn't him. _How very odd, _he thought, _that despite the fact that I can't see a single thing going on in front of me, and the fact that everyone here seems fully intent upon killing me in one way or another, I am still completely composed. _

He wondered if he was going insane.

Then, he heard a familiar voice: Anakin's. "Obi-Wan! If you want to live through this, open that damned door!"

"I can't see," Obi-Wan calmly replied.

"Idiot," Anakin muttered. Something sizzled in the air - Obi-Wan felt it on his skin - followed by another explosion, a harsh cry, cut off into silence.

He felt Yoda slide down off of his arm, then heard that gravelly voice: "Doing what are you, young Skywalker?" Yoda sounded slightly alarmed. Anakin made some kind of rumbling sound. "Saving all of us. Though why I'm saving you two, I'll never know." Then, the sound of metal buckling, Yoda actually shouting with surprise. Obi-Wan had a feeling he knew what was going on.

Then, his sight and his mind slowly returned, and his suspicions were confirmed.

Anakin, through the sheer power of the Force, had ripped open the blast doors. He was sitting on a corpse, sweating, grimacing as if in pain. Behind, far down the hallway, three clone bodies lay draped across the rubble, dead or unconcious.Obi-Wan resisted a shudder. The sheer power just displayed was... numbing. _What have you been doing all this time, Anakin? _Yoda limped to the chamber doors that had once been protected by the supposedly impregnable blast doors, and quickly punched in a code. Turning to Anakin, he allowed a scowl to cross his burned, blacked features, and said, "Regret this, I am sure I will."

The doors slid open to reveal a small, compact chamber, well-lit and well furnished. In the background, a bedchamber could be seen. Rich red rugs covered the floor, accenting the simply decorated walls. Glowpanels bathed the room in golden light.

And in the center of it all stood Padme Amidala Skywalker.

"Anakin!"


	14. Tragically Irreconcileable Differences

**A/N: As always, reviews are appreciated, and tend to keep me pumping out the frothy... uh... well, I can't say _goodness. _Uhm... _Star Wars-y-ness _is a definite, though.**

**A sidenote: is this story influencing Wikipedia? Just for kicks I looked up the entry on Order 66, and found that some of the characters that I've mentioned in the earlier chapters are listed as having died canon deaths in the Temple, when I'm really only sure of at least two: Drallig and Keto. I wouldn't suspect this, except for entries like the one on Bene: "**Bene was killed by Darth Vader on Coruscant at the Jedi Temple when Vader force choke her, while fighting Cin Drallig.

**//cough//**

**Is it the real deal, or is Kavek just paranoid?**

* * *

**Quatorze: Tragically Irreconcileable Differences**

* * *

The cry that was wrenched from Anakin's throat was one of combined joy and wretched agony. He dropped his lightsaber, ignored the clatter as it bounced on the floor, and rushed to his wife. His arms wrapped around her and nearly crushed her in a hug as he began to sob.

The look on Padme's face exemplified shock. She returned his embrace, tears of wonder trickling down her pale face. Then, voice cracking with emotion: "But… you were dead…"

Obi-Wan sighed - he hadn't considered this problem in the chaos of the last few hours. Turning, he watched Yoda quickly close the door behind them and seal it. The Jedi Master then hobbled over to stand beside him, once again the picture of the tired, feeble old being.

As Padme and Anakin renewed their relationship with tender kisses and whispers of amazement and explanation, he knelt next to Yoda. "What is the next move?" he asked. His mind was screaming thirty different options at him - not the least of which was _strike him down while his back is turned - _but he could not see which path was the right.

Yoda gave him an infuriatingly serene look. "First, we leave this place. Then guide us, the Force will."

Obi-Wan nodded, uncomfortable, and stood. He gave a not-so-subtle cough, hoping Anakin would get the picture, and to his pleasure, his ex-Padawan understood perfectly.

Suddenly, Anakin's lightsaber flew into his hand, blade flashing, extended, point hovering underneath Obi-Wan's throat. Padme gave a cry - "Anakin, what are you _doing_?" - as her husband bored a look of contempt into his former master.

"Padme, fetch our child."

"But -"

He turned his gaze to fix her with a look of sorrow and love. "I'm sorry, my love… I will explain when I can. Hurry."

Her mouth snapped shut, and she went.

Then, he turned back to his foes. Obi-Wan resisted a scowl, trying not show how frustrated he was. Yoda was frozen, obviously not going to draw his weapon when Anakin could so obviously slit Obi-Wan's throat with a flick of the wrist…

"Don't do anything foolish, Anakin," Obi-Wan said evenly, trying his best to dissuade his… friend.

Anakin smiled, a glint of happiness showing through his pain. "I'm doing something _right_ for the first time in years. And you're not going to stop me."

Obi-Wan scowled. "What - raise your chil-" he stumbled; _Anakin apparently didn't know he had more than one child yet_ - "…raise your child to become a _Sith_?"

Anakin returned the scowl fourfold. "Never. If I teach my child, it will be because she asks me to. And I won't _confine_ her to some silly doctrines. I'll teach her to follow the dictates of her _conscience_." Bitter hostility filled his voice as his expression whiplashed and twisted his features: "That's freedom. And that's love. Something you Jedi _never_ taught me."

Obi-Wan let his mouth stand agape.

Just then, Padme returned, a small bag over her shoulder and Leia in her arms. Behind her, a familiar-looking golden protocol droid - followed a small, squat R2 unit - came, bearing some other items.

"Oh my! Master Obi-Wan! How nice to see you!" the protocol droid exclaimed, making a robotic waving motion that was nearly comical.

"Hello, Threepio," the Jedi replied smoothly.

"I am ready, my love," Padme said to Anakin, hefting Leia onto her hip. Her daughter was silent and scared, apprehensive of the strange-looking man and his thrumming lightsaber. Anakin nodded by way of reply, then directed his final statement to his enemies.

"I am sure the Imperials will be quite happy to find you here," he said, a trace of the old cockiness in his voice. "Tell Palpatine hello for me."

Then, backing away, lightsaber still extended, he waved his hand, and the entire band, sans the R2 unit, simply _disappeared._

* * *

"Oh, that's interesting…" Palpatine croaked. Mas Amedda bowed low, his glistening blue scalp-tentacles dangling in the air. "I had thought you would appreciate it, Emperor," he said smoothly. 

The Sith Lord stood from behind his desk. Turning to look out the panoramic window at the cityscape of Coruscant, he murmured softly to himself: "So Skywalker lives, as do Kenobi and… Yoda."

Then, to Amedda: "In your estimation, what are the chances that we will capture them?"

"They will be caught without fail. Our numbers there are too great." So saying, the alien smiled as he rearranged those glabrous lumps of flesh so that they hung against his chest a bit more… _attractively_. Secretly, Palpatine wished that he could find a better Chairman for the Senate so that he would have the pleasure of cleaving that singularly ugly head in two. _Disgusting creature, _he thought. _The sooner you and your kind are exterminated, the happier I shall be. _

Aloud, Palpatine said, "In other words, they shall escape."

The Chagrian looked slightly offended, but he kept his mouth shut. Sitting again, the Emperor pondered the situation for a moment, then glanced up at Amedda again. "How Jedi-hunting commando units saw action during the Jedi Purge?"

The Grand Vizier nodded - here was something he could answer. "Forty-seven, sir."

"And how many of those units yet remain?"

* * *

Anakin hurried along down the sterile, white passage, carrying a bag under one arm and shoving C-3PO ahead of him with the other. Behind him, Padme moved as quickly as her worn body would allow, Leia trotting along beside her with one thumb firmly jammed in her mouth. 

"Where does this lead?" Anakin asked, throwing the question over his shoulder.

Padme was breathless: "Next to the palace, near the entrance to this compound."

"Dammit," Anakin muttered. "Surely there's a hangar or something… where can we get a ship?"

"Hangar's the opposite way," Padme replied as they turned left to follow the hallway.

"Great," Skywalker growled. "Just great."

* * *

"Great," Obi-Wan growled. "Just great." 

Yoda nodded his acquiescence. "Time for remonstrance we have not, Master Obi-Wan. To young Luke we must go, before word of him Anakin receives."

Obi-Wan sighed as he brushed soot from his clothing. "Correct as usual, Master Yoda."

The aged Jedi Master was not listening. Instead, he had closed his eyes and seemed to be suddenly lost in the Force. He was…

…_watching as four LAAT/i carriers disgorged a unit of stormtroopers, who quickly rappelled into the huge hole in the street. Two officers slid from their ships, and quickly began guiding their men into the attack, when one of them stopped short. "What the _hell _is that doing here?" he asked. _

_His gaze fell on a small starship that was resting in the midst of the street, its stubby wings barely fitting between the buildings. The sublights were idling, and the loading bay was lowered. Next to the bay lay an unmoving figure, clad in green armor… _

_…_"A ride, we have," Yoda said.


End file.
